THOUSAND A YEAR

Taranaki Daily News, 16 November 1935, Page 21 (Supplement)

THOUSAND A YEAR

NIGHTWATCHMAN’S SALARY. ELECTRIC POWER SUPPLY. Nightwatchman—chief main Superintendent of one of Southern England’s electric supply companies ... At 1 a.m. his bedside telephone brings him on duty in a split second, writes Roy Dexter in the Daily Mail. “Number three feeder has gone out!” a cheerful voice informs him. “Where?” “Palace Hill substation. Cable’s broken down about thirty yards west of the station.” ■ His quick brain not only visualises that particular spot in the network of underground electrical mains but the best and quickest remedy. “Right!” That cable’s about three feet down —earthenware conduit—33,ooo volt—some of Jiggers’ stuff.” He even names the makers of that piece of cable. “Haye a gang there, with a fifty-yard drum of Jiggers’ 33,000 cable, and a couple of jointers. We’ll cut the whole thirty yards out and put in a new piece. Meet you there in half an hour . . . Oh! How’s the load distributed? . . . Half on No. 1 . . . Better take off the extra from 4, we’ll have that out next. Cheerio!” He hangs up the receiver and dives for his trousers. At the power station there is an orderly bustle. The night foreman sends out two men on bicycles to round up the digging gang. Men load acetylene flares, tools, earthenware conduit pipes, and cable-jointers’ tents on to a lorry. Others carefully roll out a huge drum of cable to be hoisted on another lorry. , Soon the gang appear in ones and twos and scramble on the tool lorry, which disappears into the darkness followed by the cable-drum lorry and the assistant mains superintendent in his little car. The £lOOO a year chief is waiting for them at Palace Hill substation, having dressed and motored eight miles in less than twenty minutes—incidentally, all the local police know him! His knowledge of the maze of cables is such that he has already chalked out the digging area, and is not an inch out when the workmen finally get down to the cable!

All that night, and until midday, he waits while the old cable is cut and the new one jointed on. He inspects the joint carefully before it is insulated, and after each layer of insulation—oiled paper, tape, lead. Finally he sees the other end connected to the substation switchgear, and personally puts through a test.

Then home, leaving his day-shift assistant to see everything cleared up. But not to sleep—he must examine the piece of old cable and report on the probable cause of the trouble. Jiggers, the makers, will want to know, and so will the station engineer, for either may have been at fault.

As he completes his task and prepares for a bath and some sleep, the telephone rings again. “Number five overhead distribution main is ‘out’ as Swansdown!” So he goes out to his car with another night’s work before him. Although his assistants work regular shifts, he, as the ultimately responsible officer for the maintenance of a huge network of electrical mains (something like 1000 miles of cable, both buried and overhead), has to be on the job all the while.